


This Rainy Saturday Morning

by eaivalefay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-19
Updated: 2007-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eaivalefay/pseuds/eaivalefay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He fought off the knowing grin that wanted to split his face in half even as he ignored the wicked and vaguely triumphant gleam in Draco's eyes.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Rainy Saturday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://www.insanejournal.com/users/tinkerpixy/profile)[**tinkerpixy**](http://www.insanejournal.com/users/tinkerpixy/), because she wanted H/D fluff, and unknowingly reminded me of a tiny conversation I wrote well over two years ago. (I knew someday that would come in handy! This is why I don't throw fic away. *grin*)

  
If someone had told Harry two years ago that he'd someday be sitting here today, folded neatly into an armchair on a rainy Saturday morning with a muggle laptop computer on his lap, filling out the latest meme floating around the wizards' secret pocket of a community on the internet... Well, he would've eyed them strangely and wondered what the hell a 'meme' was.

If someone had told Harry two years ago that he'd someday be sitting here today, still folded neatly in his armchair with his compact silver laptop, black coffee handily sitting next to him on its own little coffee table, and bickering almost-but-not-quite amicably with Draco Malfoy... Well, he would've laughed hysterically at them.

Laughed hysterically or called the nice men in white coats to cart the person off to St. Mungo's.

But no one had said that to Harry two years ago. No one even said that one year ago.

No one had said that one month ago, really.

In fact, everyone still seemed to be in denial.

Yet, despite the wizarding world at large being in denial, which in all honesty wasn't a new phenomenon to Harry, here he was. Sitting. In his armchair. In _their_ third floor flat with a shoddy view. Sipping on his coffee as if his life depended on the substance more than it did oxygen. Listening to the rustling of papers as Draco forged his way through the daily muggle crossword from their daily muggle paper.

"What's a word that goes before egg?" Draco asked, working on his crossword puzzle.

"... Faberge?" Harry suggested distractedly as he typed something quickly on the screen. "Did you get the post yet?"

"No. Was that the first thing that came to mind with 'egg'?" Draco nearly snarled, huffily writing in the word.

"I never once said I was normal." Harry said. "You should go get the post."

"The post has those nasty letters in it." Draco reminded. "And actually you used to say that all the time until I beat it out of you."

"Hmph." Harry rolled his eyes. "They're called 'bills', Draco, which we have to pay." He looked balefully over the top of his computer. "It's not like we can afford our current lifestyle as it is."

"You're the one working on a _laptop_."

"Oh shut up." Harry's gazed returned to his screen. "It's for work, you know." He added for good measure.

"Ah. So you're hard at work over there, are you?"

Harry didn't know if he wanted to smirk or beat Draco over the head with his computer. Maybe he would beat Draco over the head and _then_ smirk. Except he wasn't entirely sure he could do that to a loved one. After all, what had his computer ever done to him? And anyway he really didn't feel like moving just for the annoying blond. Harry snuggled further into his armchair, wishing for a brief moment that it was _Draco_ he was snuggling into instead. He sighed. "Do you like apples or oranges?"

"Oranges." Draco said absently. "Why you even have to ask..."

"It's a meme. Shut up and answer the questions. What's better, vampires or veelas?"

Harry knew Draco was considering calling him on the 'shut up and talk' comment. If Draco did say something about it Harry _would_ get up to beat him over the-

Draco hummed. "Vampires."

Harry eyed his lover a bit guiltily. "Which has the better magical abilities?" He knew Draco knew what he'd been thinking.

"Tough, but I'll say vampires."

Harry met Draco's gray eyes in surprise, jolted from his thoughts. "Veela have some handy abilities."

"Well, dancing only gets you so far."

"They do more than dancing magic." Harry said reproachfully.

"Yes, but vampires have mind controlling abilities."

"Draco, you're a Malfoy. You don't need magical mind control ability, you already have non-magical mind control ability in spades."

Draco shrugged, "extra never hurts."

Harry snorted, "right. Silk or leather?"

Draco glared at him, "both. They go best together anyway."

He fought off the knowing grin that wanted to split his face in half even as he ignored the wicked and vaguely triumphant gleam in Draco's eyes. Yes, silk and leather definitely went best together, as last night could attest to, and the night before that, and the night before that... Harry forced himself to scowl back instead. "That's not an option."

"Fine; Harry, silk or leather?"

" _I'm_ the questioner, not you!" Harry felt heat rise to his cheeks. Damn Draco to hell. The vaguely triumphant look wasn't vague anymore.

Draco smirked.

"Bastard." Harry muttered. "... White or black?"

"Silver."

"Draco!" He was being difficult on purpose. Two could play at his game. Harry pouted. He put a whine in his tone.

Draco gave a dramatic sigh, "it depends on my mood."

Harry felt slighted. "Fine. Fire or ice?"

"Ice." Draco said succinctly.

Harry rolled his eyes in amusement. Or was that irritation? "Figures; you _are_ an albino."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that and torture you later. What music group had 'Left Eye Lopez'?"

"Erm... TLC, I think."

Draco eyed him slyly. "I'm finished with the crossword."

"Good. Then you can clean up the dishes." Before Draco could open his mouth to object Harry hurriedly added on, "it's your turn, Draco, and you're not getting out of it. Best get them done before your godfather arrives for afternoon tea."

It was Draco's turn to pout. And whine. He sighed when Harry ignored his big, soulful silver eyes. "Fine." Halfway to the kitchen he paused, "and afterwards..?"

A smirk broke out across Harry's face before he could control himself, "I top." He casually hit the button to update his live journal as Draco groaned in anticipation and cursed his way into the kitchen. Now the dishes would seem to take a lifetime, for the both of them Harry knew.

If someone had told Harry two years ago that he'd someday be living with Draco Malfoy in a small muggle flat, on a rainy Saturday morning, contemplating just how he could use both their handcuffs and silk ties later that morning...

Well, he probably would've hexed them through the wall shortly before he had a premature heart attack.

But that was then.

He hadn't known much then.  



End file.
